February 18, 2010
El espectáculo debe continuar
For several days now, I've been waiting for the news that Alexander McQueen's death was a cruel joke by the designer, that it was all a setup as part of his next show in Paris, where he planned to magically reappear in the middle of the stage and, once again, leave the entire audience speechless and glued to their seats. But days pass, a week has gone by, and no one seems to say anything other than that McQueen is truly dead, that he is no longer in this world, and that he will not be doing any more shows. Writing this breaks my heart.
A headline in one of our national magazines says that "he will be remembered for his armadillos," and it sends shivers down my spine – no, please no, not for the armadillos. I refuse to believe that he will be remembered for such an infamy, only fitting for the monstrous Lady Gaga. No. Things like those were what McQueen used to create a more dramatic staging, to make an impact, but they were nothing more than simple props, not something for which he should be remembered as a designer. Things to remember were his perfectly tailored jacket suits in the purest Savile Row style, his spectacular romantic dresses, the richly embroidered kimonos, the sci-fi body-dresses, the architecturally structured corsets, the puffy balloon skirts like flowers – in short, that haute couture intention presented in an unforgettable show package.
The most spectacular and imaginative dresses were his work
Sci-fi bodysuits were also one of his hallmarks, and in recent seasons, he discovered the world of digital printing and took it to its extremes. I'm not good at creating rapport (the repeating unit in a digital print), but I can appreciate the enormous difficulty of making them so dense, complex, and fit together in such a way. It's crazy.
Balloon skirts, carnation skirts, skirts with flowers, all beautiful and a marvel of technique
McQueen has always been my favorite designer, more than that, my reference, someone I deeply admired. Not only for being a fantastic designer but also for being the best tailor and showman. In my opinion (just like Álex de la Iglesia in his excellent speech at the last Goya Awards), I understand that "saving lives in a hospital is important"; everything else, including this blog, is pure entertainment. I believe McQueen understood this too, and show after show, he presented the greatest spectacle that fashion could afford. To do this, he resorted to people outside the fashion world, like Sam Gainsbury, who before meeting him was a pop video producer and after working with McQueen making the most impossible dreams come true, ended up setting up his own fashion event production agency.
Together, they quickened the pulse of many attendees when in 2002 they brought a purple Little Red Riding Hood accompanied by wolves to open the show or with the famous enchanted hologram of Kate Moss in 2006, or when in 1999 they created an in-situ work of art by painting Sharlom Harlow's dress with Fiat machines. This last idea was later copied for a car commercial, like many others that were then used by other designers, and I have no doubt that it's partly copying, but I also believe it's partly because this man was too far ahead of everyone else. The white paint on the eyes that Balenciaga popularized and that Valentino is now bringing back, McQueen had already done years ago; Chanel's carousel had already had its original McQueenian counterpart ages ago; the military and Victorian jackets by Balmain, D&G, and yours truly, McQueen had already released them no less than two years ago.
Kate Moss hologram
I loved his imaginary world; I imagined that poor child from a humble family devouring movies and books, with which he later created a fantastic, romantic, and delirious universe. It was clear he loved cinema; cinematographic references were very common not only in the staging but also in the collection proposals. "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?," Hitchcock, and even "Harry Potter" have appeared walking on his runways, refreshed, recognizable but improved.
They Shoot Horses, Don't They?
The Man Who Knew Too Much
A chess game between Japan and the USA
And even though the staging was theatrical and magical, this didn't distract McQueen from what really mattered: his clothes. His shows were not a distraction from his collections; on the contrary, they exalted them. He had nothing to hide; his work was perfect, and he knew it. I still remember when I tried on something of his for the first time, it was at Saks Fifth Avenue in New York, from the "Irere" collection; his jackets forced you to walk straight, they straightened your back, lifted your shoulders, you walked like a proud pirate. I always keep that feeling in mind when I try on clothes that are supposedly good; if they don't make you walk with pride, they are rags, no matter the cost.
The first low-rise pants on the runway, the "bumpsters," were also his idea. Now you know who to blame for this decade of pants below the navel.
McQueen worked magic, both in his designs and on stage. Without him, the world of entertainment has lost a lot; the world of fashion, almost everything.
Lee, I already miss you.
A headline in one of our national magazines says that "he will be remembered for his armadillos," and it sends shivers down my spine – no, please no, not for the armadillos. I refuse to believe that he will be remembered for such an infamy, only fitting for the monstrous Lady Gaga. No. Things like those were what McQueen used to create a more dramatic staging, to make an impact, but they were nothing more than simple props, not something for which he should be remembered as a designer. Things to remember were his perfectly tailored jacket suits in the purest Savile Row style, his spectacular romantic dresses, the richly embroidered kimonos, the sci-fi body-dresses, the architecturally structured corsets, the puffy balloon skirts like flowers – in short, that haute couture intention presented in an unforgettable show package.
His beginnings on Savile Row allowed him to make perfect suit jackets. Legend has it that when he was an apprentice cutter, he used to graffiti irreverent remarks and an occasional insult on the linings of the suit jackets destined for the Prince of Wales. Nevertheless, when the Queen knighted him, he reportedly went to receive the title to make his mother happy.
The most spectacular and imaginative dresses were his work
Sci-fi bodysuits were also one of his hallmarks, and in recent seasons, he discovered the world of digital printing and took it to its extremes. I'm not good at creating rapport (the repeating unit in a digital print), but I can appreciate the enormous difficulty of making them so dense, complex, and fit together in such a way. It's crazy.
Balloon skirts, carnation skirts, skirts with flowers, all beautiful and a marvel of technique
McQueen has always been my favorite designer, more than that, my reference, someone I deeply admired. Not only for being a fantastic designer but also for being the best tailor and showman. In my opinion (just like Álex de la Iglesia in his excellent speech at the last Goya Awards), I understand that "saving lives in a hospital is important"; everything else, including this blog, is pure entertainment. I believe McQueen understood this too, and show after show, he presented the greatest spectacle that fashion could afford. To do this, he resorted to people outside the fashion world, like Sam Gainsbury, who before meeting him was a pop video producer and after working with McQueen making the most impossible dreams come true, ended up setting up his own fashion event production agency.
Together, they quickened the pulse of many attendees when in 2002 they brought a purple Little Red Riding Hood accompanied by wolves to open the show or with the famous enchanted hologram of Kate Moss in 2006, or when in 1999 they created an in-situ work of art by painting Sharlom Harlow's dress with Fiat machines. This last idea was later copied for a car commercial, like many others that were then used by other designers, and I have no doubt that it's partly copying, but I also believe it's partly because this man was too far ahead of everyone else. The white paint on the eyes that Balenciaga popularized and that Valentino is now bringing back, McQueen had already done years ago; Chanel's carousel had already had its original McQueenian counterpart ages ago; the military and Victorian jackets by Balmain, D&G, and yours truly, McQueen had already released them no less than two years ago.
Kate Moss hologram
I loved his imaginary world; I imagined that poor child from a humble family devouring movies and books, with which he later created a fantastic, romantic, and delirious universe. It was clear he loved cinema; cinematographic references were very common not only in the staging but also in the collection proposals. "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?," Hitchcock, and even "Harry Potter" have appeared walking on his runways, refreshed, recognizable but improved.
They Shoot Horses, Don't They?
The Man Who Knew Too Much
A chess game between Japan and the USA
And even though the staging was theatrical and magical, this didn't distract McQueen from what really mattered: his clothes. His shows were not a distraction from his collections; on the contrary, they exalted them. He had nothing to hide; his work was perfect, and he knew it. I still remember when I tried on something of his for the first time, it was at Saks Fifth Avenue in New York, from the "Irere" collection; his jackets forced you to walk straight, they straightened your back, lifted your shoulders, you walked like a proud pirate. I always keep that feeling in mind when I try on clothes that are supposedly good; if they don't make you walk with pride, they are rags, no matter the cost.
The first low-rise pants on the runway, the "bumpsters," were also his idea. Now you know who to blame for this decade of pants below the navel.
McQueen worked magic, both in his designs and on stage. Without him, the world of entertainment has lost a lot; the world of fashion, almost everything.
Lee, I already miss you.